


Fraise Interdite

by TheSpaceCoyote



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Food Kink, Jack has gross kinks, M/M, Rhys wont back down from a challenge, Stuffing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 13:50:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14113707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/pseuds/TheSpaceCoyote
Summary: Jack catches Rhys sneaking one of his freshly-made chocolate strawberry without permission, and decides to punish him for it by making him finish off the entire plate.Rhys, however, views it less a punishment, and more of achallenge.





	Fraise Interdite

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been kicking around for a few months now. Just interested in some stuffing kink with a competitive edge on Rhys' part! Enjoy! :)

Jack had told him not to take any strawberries.

Rhys figured, if he’d really wanted none of them stolen, he would’ve hidden them better. Someplace better than the second rack of the fridge, like  _come on_ , Jack. He was basically just tempting him at this point.

Jack always picked the best of the best ingredients for his cooking, and his desserts were no exception. The strawberries he’d chosen were shiny, bright, and plump with juice—not to mention lovingly enrobed in the most expensive, most elegant brand of chocolate. So fancy you couldn’t even get it from the local speciality grocer, Jack had had to order it online.

They were perfectly designed to seduce Rhys.

He’d been so  _sure_  that Jack wouldn’t miss one little strawberry. There were nearly two dozen crowding the bright red ceramic plates Jack had put them on to cool and properly set. Jack definitely hadn’t cared enough to  _count_  them, right?

So Rhys had peeled away the plastic wrap and hummed over which little morsel was the most  _perfect_  one, before selecting a strawberry near the rim of the plates and rearranging the rest so it’d look like none were missing. A giddy, greedy little smile curled over his face as he turned and nudged the fridge door shut with his boot. He held the strawberry over his mouth by the stem, like he were a Greek deity feeding himself full of grapes. His eyelids fluttered in decadent anticipation, and as he bit into the end of the strawberry, feeling the chocolate crack like a breath of fresh air and the flesh of the fruit pop and ooze over his lips and down his chin, he nearly forgot he was supposed to be discreet.

He certainly didn’t hear the sudden sound of the backdoor sliding open.

Rhys flailed, nearly choking on the chunk of strawberry as Jack suddenly appeared into the kitchen, eyes wide and angry like he’d already known Rhys was sneaking strawberries before he’d even walked through the backdoor. Rhys floundered, unsure of whether he should make an attempt to hide the treat or pretend he’d been doing something else, but all pretense was lost as Jack walked right up to him, plucked the strawberry from his fingers, and shook it right in front of his face.

“You little  _brat_ ,” Jack growled, his lower lip angrily curled out. “What did I  _just say to you_.”

“Uhhh, well I don’t know, but I’m  _pretty_  sure you said go ahead, Rhys, eat all the strawberries you want? I mean, after all, why does it  _really_  matter whether we eat them now or later, it’s not like we’re going to give them away—“ Rhys babbled, trying to defend his theft and defuse Jack’s anger. He opened his mouth to keep going, only for Jack to suddenly step forward and shove the rest of the strawberry back against his tongue, pushing it deeper and deeper until Rhys’ lips closed over the tips of Jack’s fingers. The young man let out a muffled protest at the sudden mouthful, eyes raised in confusion at the sudden, apparent change of heart.

But the look on Jack’s face was anything but agreeable. In fact, as Rhys slowly chewed the strawberry— _what, what else was he gonna do?_ —a nasty grin crept over the older man’s expression. He pulled his fingers out between Rhys’ lips, a syrupy pink little trail dripping after them.

“Why….why are you looking at me like that?” Rhys questioned after he swallowed down the treat. “Aren’t you mad I ate your strawberry?”

“ _Mmm_. Yeah. I’m pretty pissed off. But I just thought of a more  _constructive_  way to punish you rather than just throwing a fit.” Jack held up a finger to keep Rhys quiet as he opened up the fridge, pulling out the tray of remaining strawberries and setting it on the counter edge between the two of them. He grabbed three of them together in one palm, holding them out to Rhys with a malicious twinkle in his eyes. ****

“You wanna eat daddy’s strawberries without his permission, pumpkin? Well, he’s gonna teach you a lesson that makes sure you’ll  _never ever_  wanna even  _look_  at sweets ever again.”

That sounded like a challenge to Rhys. His eyes moved from the plate of strawberries to the three balanced in Jack’s hand.

“Are you saying…”

“Yes. I want you to eat all of them.”

“All of them?”

“ _All of them_.” Jack waved the handful of treats underneath Rhys’ nose. “At least, however many you can fit before you blow your chunks.”

That was  _definitely_  a challenge.

“You’re on.” Rhys smirked as he plucked one of the strawberries from Jack’s palm, deftly swallowing it down before picking up the next two at once and shoving them both into his mouth. He winked slyly at Jack as he chewed, nice and slow, grinning after he gulped them all down. Jack looked on, unfazed, even wiggling another strawberry up to Rhys’ lips.

“Come on, baby. More where that came from.”

Rhys snatched the berry from Jack’s fingers with his teeth, grinning around the treat as he pushed it between his lips, making a big, moaning show of chewing as he dropped the stem back onto the plate.

“ _Easy_.” He popped his sticky lips, leaning his hip against the counter. Jack snickered, grabbing a couple more strawberries as he boxed Rhys’ in.

“Don’t get cocky, kiddo. We’ve barely started.”

Rhys rolled his eyes, grabbing the berries from Jack’s hand as he kneed him away.

“I can feed  _myself_ , you know. “ He growled as he stuck one of the strawberries into his cheek, cutely bulging it out. Jack held up his hands, winking as he took a step back.

“All right, all right, just trying to make it a lil’ easier on you.”

Rhys huffed through his half-full mouth.

“As if I  _need_  your help to beat you.” He spoke as soon as he swallowed the treat in his mouth, before popping another inside in quick succession.

Rhys had finished about a third of the strawberries before his stomach properly protested, churning angrily as he swiped a loose piece of chocolate shell from the serving platter.

Jack must have noticed, because he rudely prodded him in the stomach, smirking at the answering gurgle.

“Looks like you’re getting  _full_.”

“Nuh- _uh_ ,” Rhys insisted, hand instinctively coming to rest on his belly and brush Jack away. This was  _nothing_. He’d stress-binged many a grocery trip’s worth amount of food in a single night back during college finals week. He’d eaten a whole tub of ice cream when Stacey broke up with him and hadn’t thrown up. And he and Vaughn had definitely gotten drunk on cheap beer more nights than one and ended up ordering way too much pizza—most of which had ended up demolished between them anyway.

Rhys could handle Jack’s sissy little strawberries.

He managed to finish over half of the plate before genuinely starting to feel a bit sick, not that he’d let Jack in on it. Naturally, despite his best efforts, Jack picked up on his discomfort with wicked glee.

“Aw, need some help pumpkin? Want daddy to loosen your belt for you?” Jack’s hand danced on Rhys’ waistband before his finger wiggled in between his pants and his tucked shirt. Rhys frowned, sucking in his gut with no small effort and swatting Jack’s hand away.

“ _No_ , I don’t. I think you’re just  _stalling_.”

“Mmm, why would I need to stall, kiddo? I  _know_  I’m gonna win.”

“Uh huh….just keep telling yourself that,” Rhys snarked, though he was starting to doubt his ability to finish all the strawberries without getting sick. His stomach had started to bloat out a bit underneath his shirt, and his mouth felt heavy and sticky with how much chocolate and fruit he’d shoved into it in the past few minutes. He honestly felt like lying down or maybe taking a warm bath to help the food properly digest, but the temptation to wipe that smirk off of Jack’s face was, unfortunately, too much for him to resist.

The last few strawberries were a battle, one that Rhys at times sincerely doubted he could win. But he couldn’t bear to give up when he was  _so close_  to showing his smarmy boyfriend up, so he pushed through the fullness and discomfort, trying to pace himself while also chewing and swallowing quick enough to get this done as efficiently as he could.

Finally, with much effort, Rhys closed his lips around the last strawberry, taking his time to chew it into a pulpy paste before he swallowed it. He groaned and burped as it went down, tasting sugar and a bit of stomach acid.

Rhys panted, hands cradling his bloated stomach. His guts cramped, mouth sticky from the chocolate and strawberry juices, his head spinning slightly from the overload of sugar—but he’d  _won_.

He managed a smile.

“Heh…looks like you  _lost_ , old man.”

“ _Hmm_. That’s what you think.” Jack chuckled filthily as he slid his hand underneath Rhys’ shirt, pulling the hem up and over the young man’s bloated stomach. Rhys squawked, affronted as Jack tenderly rubbed his middle, trying to ignore how good it felt on his stuffed insides.The broad, tan palm contrasted nicely against the pale, slightly pink skin of his belly, and Rhys whined softly as Jack leaned in and pressed a smirking kiss against his cheek.

“Wow, who would’ve thought you’d look so good like this?”

“You  _sneak_ ,” Rhys grumbled as Jack’s palm rubbed little circles into his belly. “You  _planned_  this.”

“Not quite. I knew you might try to steal some of my strawberries because you’re a greedy little brat, but I came up with that whole little game on the spot.” Jack rested his other hand against the counter’s edge beside Rhys’ hip, leaning in closer to him as his fingers pulled the hem of Rhys’ shirt up a little further, until it bunched just bellow his chest.

“ _Damn_ ,” Jack whistled, rubbing his palm back down. He started toying with the button on Rhys’ pants as he pressed another kiss just below the first.

“Ugh. You sicko….how the fuck is  _this_  sexy?” Rhys groused, but didn’t try to swat away Jack’s hands as he opened his pants and slid his fingers into his boxers. His arousal twitched, conflicting with the ache of his overfull stomach. Rhys leaned his elbows back against the counter, lessening the pressure on his middle as Jack teasingly stroked his cock, trying to work him up.

“ _Mmm_ ….Jack, c’mon…”

“Shhh,” Jack whispered as his other hand went to his own crotch, unzipping his pants and pushing his waistband to hang off his hips. He let go of Rhys’ cock after it twitched, encouragingly, settling both hands on his hips as his tented boxers bulged out of his fly.

“Think you can fit some cream in with those strawberries, sweetheart?”

“Are you…are you  _really_  asking me to blow you?” Rhys looked between Jack’s waiting grin and his crotch. He drummed his fingers against the counter. “Your dick’s gonna get sticky.”

“Nothing a quick, steamy shower wouldn’t clean off.”

Rhys worried his lower lip, debating between his fluttering need and uncomfortably stuffed insides. Finally, he pushed off of the counter and shoved Jack back against the refrigerator, holding Jack’s shoulders flush against the cool steel. His boyfriend moaned as their mouths pressed together, sticky strawberry juice and flecks of chocolate gumming up the kiss and leaving Jack panting and curiously smacking his lips together when they parted.

“This doesn’t mean you  _win_ , you know,” Rhys whispered as his hands dropped to Jack’s pants, cupping the bulge of his boyfriend’s crotch before peeling away his underwear.

“Maybe not in the traditional sense,” Jack purred, rolling his hips as Rhys slid his hand around his dick, “but I’m still counting it as a victory.”


End file.
